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The Contract

Synopsis: In strong willed unthinking stupidity, fiery tempered beauty Sabrina, signs away her inheritance and must suffer extreme and painful humiliation to get it back.

The Contract
by Eve Adorer

It was granddaddy's firm. At twenty-two I had inherited granddaddy's firm. Mummy had remarried after the divorce. She had gone back to Milan where she was born. Daddy, poor daddy, had died suddenly and shockingly, a year back.

It had taken that year to untangle daddy's estate and dry my tears. And now, through him, at twenty-two I had inherited granddaddy's company. The tangle had been from mummy trying to take the share she had foregone by divorcing.

She was not in daddy's will. It was not as if she had not made a good second marriage. She was “rolling in it” as they say. But "already have wants more" and the only ones to really gain had been the lawyers as she dragged her dispute of the will through the courts.

I had inherited mummy's fire and determination. I had her body as well. Taller at five feet seven and bustier at 36D I had her hourglass figure and her long (in my case even longer) shapely legs.

She had been a model whose face and eyes on billboards sold everything from soap to safety goggles. I had Italianate looks too. But what really knocked men out was that I also had Daddy's dark brown eyes and his black hair. Daddy and granddaddy were originally from South America. I am half Italian and half Argentinean and, am frequently told, by far the loveliest halves of both.

And rounding off this tale of inheritances, I had the company and with it the debts from the court case and also with it Kate; "Capable Kate".

My education had not been neglected. I had a good BA. Daddy did not want his inheritance squandered. He had determined my qualifications for business should equal or better his. Oxford and my BA had followed private school.

And yet I was shallow and unqualified compared with Kate who had had none of my privileges but, now twenty-seven, had been indispensable to Daddy and was, if truth were told, the one who should have inherited the firm, which she was the inspirational leader of, and brains behind.

Among Kate's accomplishments was a speaking knowledge of Japanese. Her quick mind absorbed information better than a desert with water. Her working knowledge of Japanese had saved the company when its US market had collapsed. Japan was now our market. It was not our entire market but, for what the rest of the world and England (where we were based in Birmingham) was worth to us, it might as well have been.

Kate's generosity and patience with me knew no bounds. We had been friends since childhood. And yet my first stupid action on the first day of "being in charge" of the company I had inherited had been to tell her off for calling me "Sab", her pet name for me since forever, reminding her arrogantly that I had been named Sabrina but that from now on, given her status relative to mine, I would prefer that in public she addressed me as "Miss P****": "Sabrina" would be in order to use when we were in private, but never ever "Sab".

Kate loved me as if she were my big sister and indulged me with "Miss P****" from there on, smiling in her mind when she did so, at the thought of how very much like my mother I had grown up to be. Truth told, where business was concerned, I had inherited too much of my mother and not enough of my father. I was a trial to Kate; constantly directing that what should be done was the opposite of what she advised, and only because I was fonder of my new found power than capable of wielding it sensibly.

One fateful day I unwittingly sowed the seeds of disaster when I signed and had witnessed my signature on a document the contents and meaning of which I had no idea of. Other than for the request that two copies be signed one kept and one sent back to the N***** Corporation, it was in Japanese. I insisted I sign it. Kate was away. I ordered that nobody tell Kate, adding that I did not have to consult her; it was she who had to consult me. I owned the firm not Kate, I insisted for the umpteenth tedious time.

Education. I had education. I am an intelligent girl. But education and intelligence do not preclude a moment of blind arrogant foolishness. In signing that document I did the stupidest thing I had done in my whole life. I was to pay for that stupidity. I paid. And how!

Kate was clever and subtle. Despite my objections she got me to go with her and the rest of our management board to meet our biggest customer in Tokyo, the N***** Corporation. I am not racist, but I had argued, against sense given our all but total dependence on the Japanese market, that I did not like or trust the Japanese.

My silly notions were based on tales I had been told of granny's fate in the second war where she had very briefly been a prisoner of the Japanese of those times, when the family had been in Singapore. I had not been told the full truth. Only the truth it was considered reasonable to tell an impressionable early teenager.

And, though I would never have admitted it then or later, the tales I had heard of humiliation and rape had turned me on as a budding woman and had me caressing my sex when abed, as I imagined myself helplessly bound in the hands of drunken Japanese soldiers who needed me to tell the plans of the upcoming attack. Of course I always told them, crying out as I orgasmed, such was their erotically imagined brutality to me.

Our management board met on the Thursday before we were to fly over the weekend to Tokyo and a meeting there on the Wednesday of the following week.

I was behaving particularly petulantly that day. Kate made an impassioned and brilliant statement of our position and how we would be out of business if we did not gain renewal of the contract with N*****. So clear was her exposition there was absolutely no doubt how we stood. There was little discussion, her statement left nothing to discuss. She went on to outline our negotiating tactics and our "bottom line". We needed a price increase to survive in business. Ten-percent would be more than enough. Five-percent would balance the books. Less than five-percent and we would have to start throwing people overboard. Two-percent or less and we were dead. If proof of her indispensability were needed (and it was not) she showed it that day.

I thanked Kate for this, and then reminded the board, yet again, that it was my company and not Kate's. The five men who were on the board together with Kate and myself, hid their horror as I announced that no deal with N***** could be reached without me and that nobody would go to Tokyo unless I were in full and sole charge of the negotiations. Kate's only role would be that of my interpreter, secretary, and bag carrier. Unless I asked her, she would take no part in the discussions. I would be in sole charge and would choose my own way of proceeding.

The motion was put to the board. Kate seconded it out of love for me. Nobody dare vote against me. The verdict was unanimous. I would run the show and I would show them a thing or two.
………………

To say that the flight to Japan was tedious in the extreme would be to completely understate it. My poor colleagues had more than the awful flight to put up with though. They had to put up with an awful fright too. Me. From the very beginning I behaved, although a supposedly mature woman of twenty-two, like a spoilt brat. I complained to and bossed the stewardesses even more than I threw my shapely 115 pounds around with my colleagues.

Kate was, as ever, patience itself. However, she was to tell me much later that it had almost begun to be more for her proud memory of and respect for my late father that she had indulged me, than for love of me and our long-time friendship.

She could have walked out on us at any time. She could have got a better-paid job almost anywhere. We would have sunk without trace if it were not for her talents. And yet I began to tell her, before one of the men skilfully steered me away from the subject, that I considered that as she was now just my secretary, we needed to discuss a downward adjustment of her pay. That, I opined, would be a start to keeping the company out of the red.

On the day of the meeting I flounced into the boardroom at N***** as if it were the N***** Corporation I owned and not, what for N*****, was a hitherto well respected but minor contractor whose only real asset was the brains of its engineers and the skill of its manageress, Kate, in delivering to time and quality a product more advanced than the competition in the electronics market.

I had dressed the part. Power dressing they call it: slate-grey with darker pinstripe jacket over white silk blouse, jacket-matching pinstriped mini-skirt only three-inches below my firm pert butt when I stood, and black extra-long self-support stockings. I topped this rig out with six-inch black stilettos.

Underneath I was all in black: brassier to go with the stockings, I also wore what were then new to the market: garter panties. They consisted of abundantly frilly black garters, one for each leg, with bright red ribbon interwoven and a black stretch gusset between them. Essentially a pair of garters joined together in their middle. They were exciting and daring for a girl to wear. They were worn high up the thighs just below and touching one's butt cheeks. One's butt was entirely bare.

The garters assisted in holding up my extra-long black stockings. They were also there as a secret thrill for me as the wearer. Their gusset did not really cover anything. Somehow the failure of the gusset to hide one's sex made one feel more naked than if the gusset were not there at all. I was a sexy girl and I was taking no prisoners. I was a girl with a knockout face, body, and awesome legs, and I was going to kick them dead.

I was for none of this polite bowing and spoke loudly of my suspicion that although all present from N***** spoke only in Japanese they were perfectly fluent in English. Kate knew that with some of them that was indeed the case, but appreciated that they thought it better tactics to have us at the disadvantage of needing an interpreter. All was fair in love and war. If it were not that we were the juniors in this negotiation, she would have arranged the same in reverse.

As we finally sat around the table, I was very annoyed that even after I had been introduced all round the twenty N***** representatives as the new owner and managing director of our company, all eyes on the N***** side of the board turned to Kate for the opening of discussions. I was even more annoyed when Kate began to talk away in Japanese and was being respectfully and very carefully listened to by N*****.

My anger grew and I tapped my foot impatiently until there was a gap in Kate's flow of speech and N*****'s president was about to answer her. I brooked no nonsense and ordered Kate to tell him that we had come here to quadruple the price of our product and were not going to leave until they agreed.

"We can't tell them that", said Kate to me, "Its crazy. Our price is already higher than our three main competitors. We win out on quality. The gap is narrowing on that too". I told Kate to shut up and tell them precisely what I had said.

I never considered that I had already been heard and understood by the N***** men who spoke English even though they were not letting on that they did. Kate heard them passing on what I had said, to their colleagues in Japanese.

She was brilliant. She took up in Japanese again and told them I was unwell, being under medical treatment that the air flight had exacerbated the side affects of. Please would they be forgiving and indulge us with a break till tomorrow.

Politeness itself, the N***** president called his colleagues to attention bowed courteously and said, in Japanese, that he hoped I would be better for the next day at 10.00.

Spoilt brat that I was, in our hotel afterwards I had blazing rows with Kate, with lots of how dare shes and damned this and damned that. If it had not been for the same astute man, who had steered me from my stupidity in talking wage cuts on the plane, intervening timely again, I would have told Kate she was fired.

He could also see that Kate's patience was growing thin and that she might beat me to the draw by resigning there and then. He poured the only oil I had made available for the troubled waters, and put it to Kate that what I had proposed was worth a try.

He didn't mean it. But, to his surprise Kate agreed. She did not really agree either, but could see that it was the only way to save the firm and her colleagues, and me come to that. After all, it would be taken as something of a joke or a surprise opening gambit leading to the real and sensible bargain we were seeking to reach.

Even though Kate was to end up working for N***** a couple of years later, I am sure she had nothing whatsoever to do with what was to happen the next day.
……………….

The meeting at N***** began at 10.00 sharp. I was in more reflective mood now than on the day before. I had even gone as far as I ever would as of then toward telling Kate I was sorry and that she should take back the lead in the talks. That was at breakfast in the hotel. Kate had sensed what I was wanting to say and saved my injured pride by telling me she would be honoured to take my advice and that I had come up with a brilliant opening move. As I stood to leave the table, I kissed her cheek in gratitude.

I made no attempt to intervene at the meeting this time, as Kate began to tell them what I had yesterday ordered her to tell N*****. Indeed I sat well back from the table in full view of the N***** men, in what I judged to be a strategic suggestion of the strong general able to leave the trivia up to her minions.

Their president raising a firm hand silenced Kate even before she had really started. Then he said something at length, in Japanese of course, as ever, that made Kate blush visibly.

He pushed across the table a document I recognised. It bore my witnessed signature.

Kate looked aghast: "She's already signed the contract", she moaned to no one in particular, "she signed already for reduced prices!" The N***** president continued to talk. Kate blushed deeper.

Still blushing, she turned round to me with a look of total despair at the situation I had put us in. By signing that paper, I had already defeated the objective of our negotiations. Trying to cover for the shocking awareness of how stupid I had been, I merely asked Kate what the N***** chief had said latterly.

"What did he say?" I asked. She clearly was not going to tell me. The silly temper I had inherited from my mother was beginning to rise again. "Tell me what he said Kate, I want to know what he said!", I all but shouted.

"You don't" Kate replied. "Tell me and tell me now!" I demanded. The N***** men sat as inscrutable of face as is the cliché for all oriental gentlemen.

"Okay" said Kate, "if you really want to know, he said that he knew you have been foolish and he was before, and still is, prepared to tear up what you signed, but now, after your behaviour yesterday, he absolutely insists on one, just one condition before he will do it. He also said you have beautiful legs and asked if you are wearing any panties".

My look of total shock and my deep scarlet blushing from hairline to neckline told the N***** president that his message had been conveyed. He began to talk to Kate again and at some length, as I crossed by superbly shapely black-stockinged legs, thereby displaying even more of my gorgeous thighs, and looked at the shamed embarrassed hanging heads of my male fellow board members at the table in front of where I sat.

When the N***** president had finished speaking, Kate turned to me and told me she was under instruction to give me a message and did I really want to hear what that message was.

I was all too aware of the Japanese fascination with my legs as I sat now very self-consciously. With the last vestige of my broken pride, so, as if I didn't really care, though of course I did, I just said, "Tell me, I might as well be knowing what these pigs have to say".

Kate swallowed hard. The Japanese sat silent looking at my face as Kate passed the message. Kate made several false and hesitant starts, which was not like her at all.

The sum of what she said can be drawn together thus, although it does not fully convey the roundabout and embarrassed and apologetic way in which she felt forced to put it to me: "He says Sabrina my love, he says, the president of N***** says that is, that the only price at which they will give us a contract and tear up the one you signed, is; .. the only contract we'll get is; is, is ...They will only renew our contract if you agree to be whipped".

I was totally and absolutely stunned shocked and astounded. After endless hesitation, blushing deep deep scarlet, my head hanging in shame because I could feel a wetness in my sex as the masturbatory fantasies I had indulged as a girl flashed through my mind, I stammered: "Tell them to go to hell....Tell them they disgust me and that they are pigs to talk to me or even about me that way!"

Then suddenly I said, "No; don't tell them that".

Their president was talking again. Kate turned to me with tears welling in her loving eyes. I had effectively signed away the company, daddy's company, granddaddy's company, and they were using it as blackmail for their perverted ends.

"He says you are a beautiful girl and that we get no contract unless you submit to being whipped by geishas in what he calls 'a deflowering way'. I cannot quite interpret that last bit" she apologised. "It will be done in this boardroom this afternoon in front of all of us here now, starting at 14.00.”

“It must begin by your returning to this boardroom totally nude. You will then step up onto the board table and walk around on it so that they can admire you fully naked and humiliated. Finally, you will be bound and whipped on your bare body."

Why I said it I will never know, it can only have been the chance for fulfilment of my fantasies with the overcoming of my horrendously stupid blunder secondary. I had soaked my garter-panty gusset with my cunt-juice as I listened, and was bright crimson and perspiring in a scolding hot flush. With but a moment's hesitation I told Kate to: "Tell them 'yes', tell them I agree provided they quadruple our price as I asked through you before, and tear up the agreement I signed."

To her credit Kate told them just that. "It's a deal," she told me straight afterwards. "If you confirm right here and now that you will go through with it, it's a deal".

"Okay; okay; I'll do it" I said, "I'll do what they want".

Kate conveyed this to the N***** president.

The meeting was over. As he rose and then bowed the N***** president told me with a smile, in the clearest of American accented English: "You are as brave as you are beautiful".

……………..

And so I was on the boardroom table. Naked as the day I was born, I was walking barefoot on the boardroom table. I was commanding. I was disdainful. I was an empress. I was an ice cool Tsarina. I was stunningly beautiful, and the awesome power of my wonderful woman's body to fascinate arouse astound and provoke put me in charge. There was silence, total silence, as I walked in front of each N***** man and, shaking my mid-back-long loose black naturally curled hair from my face, squatted in front and challenged him to look into my mesmerising dark brown eyes. Each man looked down shamed and overwhelmed. Each man that is, except the N***** president who repeatedly intoned in English: "Exquisite.. you are just so exquisite!"

There was applause as the geisha girls who were there to torture me, helped me down. I could, there and then, I swear, have asked to be let off the whipping, and the N***** men would have agreed without protest. But I knew that their president would have used his overriding veto to enforce the total fulfilment of my contract.

The men gathered round, many with very clear evidence in their pants of the lust my beautiful body had provoked and was still invoking.

We were in a clear space at the end of the huge boardroom, well away from the table I had just stepped from. As I stood facing the N***** board and my own men, with Kate looking on from a distance, my wrists were strapped behind me. I was then made to kneel and had straps tied round my individual ankles and thighs to bind each ankle, legs tightly folded my heels touching my butt hemispheres, to its respective thigh.

Even as I knelt thus bound, two straps were being lowered from a pulley in the ceiling. These were passed under my armpits and tied off in non-slip nooses. I was then slowly pulled up from the floor till my butt was four-feet from the ground. My gorgeous strong bound legs swung and twisted with my body.

"You are to receive a sexual whipping", announced the N***** president. "You will be whipped in the way that Chinese emperors had virgin girls deflowered for their pleasure. However, the geishas will only be using platted leather whips without the spiked-ball-end the emperors' slaves employed, as we are only seeking to punish not to break the hymen that a sensuously sexy girl like you will have long since surrendered to girlhood's enthusiastic fingers", he continued.

"As with the emperor's virgin's, you will have a constant terrible choice: a battle in your mind: a classic dilemma."

"In your case, you must take three lashes within the lips of your sex. But that is very, very, painful, so you will want to keep your lovely legs tight closed to stop it from happening."

"But that will be no answer, because whilst ever you keep your thighs closed you will be whipped on each leg alternately till you open them to be whipped between them. And if you keep your thighs closed for six strokes on each leg, you will additionally be whipped on your breasts to make you open your girlhood wide."

"You will be driven by pain and the longing to end your punishment to open your legs. But to be whipped inside your cunt is very, very, very painful. So you will inevitably close your thighs again and they and your breasts will be whipped once more till you cannot take it any longer and you will wide-open your cunt to the whip again, to get your torture over, and so on round and round."

"In sum, you must fight to defend the most tender and sensitive organ of your exquisite body from having its wonderfully tight outer lips sundered by the force of the whip that, if it penetrates you, will rape your supremely sensitive inner lips and clitoris savagely and inhumanly, thereby filling every cubic millimetre of you with excruciating unbearable pain!"

Five girls were armed with black tapering three-foot-long, single strand, three-ply platted leather, wrist-hoop-handled whips. Each of two took a stance either side of my suspended body. Their whips would beat the leg and thigh nearest them. Two more were behind me to bring their whips round on my breasts and, inevitably, my tender nipples, unless I kept my tight folded tied legs up to defend them.

The fifth girl would wait patiently in front of me till I parted my legs. There were also two more geisha girls standing holding whips at the ready in reserve to cover for tiring arms.

I fought my bonds, terrified of what I had volunteered for. I cried out for mercy and begged them to let me free even before my beating had begun. I danced sexily, gorgeous huge thighed tied legs rising and falling, my breasts swaying, and my body swinging on the loops under my armpits as I fought to avoid the blows that had not even begun to strike me yet.

I cried out "no. please no...please, I beg you please, no!!" I was watched by all assembled as I cowered away from my fate. The men I could see were enjoying my body being so provocatively displayed and inescapably secured for the beating that was inevitable once I had exhausted myself. The men who had the greatest look of pleasure on their faces were my fellow board members, the men who worked for me. Two geishas were restraining Kate, as she too begged for my release.

And the look on the faces of those geishas was one of absolutely pure sadistic malevolence toward me. Of all the people who were going to enjoy my suffering, none would enjoy it more than these pretty geishas, girls who had been trained in the art of delivering pain to their fellow girls: girls who were the mistresses of their art and enjoyed their work, with a deep, deep, sexually motivated pleasure.

I was at last having to rest my body shining from and trickling sweat, sweating sweet smellingly from the totally useless fighting of my bonds. The leg whipping geisha girls showed no mercy as they hit my gorgeous folded legs as ferociously as they could, unerringly accurately left and then right. An echoing cruel "thwick!" .. "thwick!" from the slap of the whips was followed by my individual screams of shocked pain. It hurt so. It hurt incredibly. It hurt more that I imagined it could. It hurt more than anything I had endured in my entire life.

Even as I was still howling and swinging in my bonds they whipped my legs again; and again; and again; and again. This was no game: no pretence. My lovely soft skinned legs bore six livid crimson raised welts each as testimony that this was no game. And my tongue was shooting out of my wide-open mouth, I was screaming so loudly with the terrible pain.

To try and get my whipping over and to avoid the horror of having my breasts whipped, I lowered and wide-parted my thighs just as they intended I should be forced to by their whipping them so blisteringly hard. And the girl standing in front of me flicked her whip up skilfully savagely brutally cruelly accurately and unmercifully inside my tender slightly agape lips with a resounding "thwick!!"

I howled and slapped my thighs shut so fast and so hard that there was a huge echoing "smack" of flesh on flesh, and I danced in my bonds raising and lowering my gorgeous bound legs and squeezing my wonderful thighs hard into each other to try and ease the horrible terrible unbearable savagely stinging throbbing searing pain in my sex.

I was being forced to behave provocatively sexily and I could see some of the N***** men being masturbated by more geishas as their eyes, men and girls' both, feasted on this cruel torture of my wonderful sweat glistening body.

My tight folded legs were being repeatedly and brutally whipped once more: "thwick!" .. "thwick!", over and over as I danced in my bonds to avoid the savage blows and yet to keep my thighs together for fear of the ten-thousand-fold more savage pain from being whipped inside my lips. My savage cries echoed around the room: no words were formed, just the screams of my pain.

And my exceedingly sexy gyrations provoked more animal desire to see me suffer and dance, so sexily, dangled in my straps. My wonderful powerful legs now bore twelve raised red livid welts. Please heaven I could not bear to have them whip my breasts. I lowered and opened my legs out wide; unable to bear even them being beaten any longer, and longing against longing to get my punishment over.

The girl at the front flicked her whip expertly up hard inside my thus opened sex once more: "thwick!!". My thunderous thighs slapped shut so rapidly I caught her whip hard between them before it withdrew. And, as she had the loop at the end of the whip handle around her wrist, I pulled her off her feet as I danced like a dervish squealing and screaming and twisting, thighs squeezed as one together, howling in my excruciating pain.

And then an orgasm began. It was slow rolling thunder. I was overwhelmed by the transformation. My girl's body had betrayed me and my mind was overwhelmed by the mistress between my legs. She who has ultimate command over every girl, now had total command over me. My girlhood's mind, the mind of my sex, was mistress over me now.

The whipping of my legs suddenly felt as if I were being repeatedly punched unmercifully in a fist beating from a frenzied lust overwhelmed lover who would not take my "no" for his answer as he slapped me into letting him fuck me. I bore six more lashes on each leg moaning and gasping eyes rolling in what was now my mounting sexual pleasure.

Then I started to cry out to my tormentors dementedly. I ordered them to whip me. I begged them to whip me. I screamed abuse at them demanding over and over that they whip me, and then pleading that they whip me and whip me harder and harder and harder still.

And they whipped me!! The two girls behind me joined in. They whipped round my body to slap my lovely breasts and their beautiful rosebud nipples, smacking my firm pert mammaries so hard into my chest with savage blows that all but smashed the breath from my lungs.

Then I parted my stupendous thighs as wide as I could and: "thwick!!!!" I was whipped inside my musk dribbling sex a third wickedly brutally hard time.

I now danced dangling in my tight bonds, gorgeous legs hard together rubbing and squeezing stupendous sweaty whipped thigh hard against stupendous sweaty whipped thigh, and raising and lowering my bound legs in sexual abandon animally as I tried to finish my orgasm, screaming and shouting in the foulest of foul language and squealing at them to whip me begging them to whip me so that I could cum so the stupendous orgasm I was on the verge of would cum .....

...but my three cunt strokes penalty having been paid, the whipping ceased.

They were done with me. I had fulfilled my contract. Whether or not I orgasmed was my problem and my problem alone, not theirs.

They would do absolutely nothing to finish me. I could do absolutely nothing to finish me.

As I continued to hoarse croak my pleas that they whip me so that my orgasm would come, my humiliation was total, and tears from wonderfully agonising pain and total sexual frustration mingled with the salty sweat running in rivulets down my pleading, green flashing brown eyed, astonishingly beautifully pink flushed face, as I swayed supremely sexily, crimson-red multi-whip-stroke-striped, above a pool on the floor immediately beneath me: a pool of my sweat, my tears, and the juices my cunt had abandonedly squirted...